Life again before death
by TenebriousScintillescence
Summary: The strongest man in the world could take on anything and everything right? Or is it the heart that defines strength?


Short Story

**BreelyMillard**

Jack Russman a lonesome man created in Forks, Washington, the rainiest city in the United States of America, was designed to be the world's greatest invention. Yet after the tragedy of his existence he was taken into the wrong hands. Jack is the most powerful man in this world. He could throw a car as if it were a boomerang one way and it'd be back to him in 2.5 seconds from the opposite direction. He could touch a building the wrong way and it'd crumble to the ground. But how could he be in the wrong hands if he was so incredibly strong? Well, I didn't exactly say the hands were the hands of a person. Jack Russman was in the hands of depression… See, he didn't always have the strength that he has now. In fact, he had to grow into it. Just as any person would grow into their own life. And just as any person could, Jack had been in love...

In the hospital waiting on the highlight of his life he didn't know what to expect. He was more anxious and more nervous than a child on the first day of kindergarten.

"Ma'am? Is she done? Is she okay? Did everything… come out okay?" Jack asked again for the fourth time to a passing nurse. He was so anxious cold sweat was drenching his gray t-shirt.

She sighed, "Yes Mr. Russman, everything is going very well. Would you please take a seat? I'll bring out your son so you can meet him".

A son? Did she say a _son_? Jack's heart was racing; he was also breathing so fast it was almost hyperventilation. Within two minutes that felt like two hours he was staring into the eye's of his first born child. "Micah; his name will be Micah."

Jack was mesmerized by the beautiful eyes his wife also had. He held Micah in his arms, memorizing every feature of his tiny face. He was so caught up with his new born son he had forgotten about his wife Kailynn.

Doctor Watson stood by a door frame waiting patiently to give the news he wish he wouldn't have to. Time had gone by listening the new father and son. "Mr. Russman? Your wife…?"

"Oh yes! Yes, how is she? I'm surprised I haven't heard her yelling at me yet." Jack said chuckling to himself.

Doctor Watson had been staring at the floor, now he forced himself to look up into the eye's of Mr. Russman. "Sir… She didn't make it."

Jack hesitated for a few seconds trying to understand correctly. One minute his life was perfect, then the next moment it wasn't. "What do you mean?" He whispered trying to keep his voice steady. He already knew what Doctor Watson meant, but he needed it hear it again.

"Sir… your wife had some complications with giving birth to your son, and she couldn't handle it. The bleeding was internal and we couldn't get to her there in time. I'm so sorry." Doctor Watson managed as clear as possible. "We did everything we could."

Could this really be happening? Jack thought for a nanosecond. "It couldn't be," he mumbled, "it couldn't."

Jack woke with a gasp. He sat up, and almost instinctively placed his face in his hands. He was sweating so badly the condensation dripped from his chin. "Not again, what's with these flashbacks?" He asked himself. He'd been having them everyday this past week, and today being Thursday he was quite tired of them, just like he was tired with everything else.

On his way to the shower he grabbed a towel gently from the lining closet just to the right of the bathroom door. He also stopped in front of the sink, not just look at himself, but to see what he's turned into. His skin tan from the western sun, and the dark circles that haunted his eyes were just a part of him now. He looked away from the mirror, remorse was filling his soul. He reached for the cold faucet knob that happened to be in the shape of his right hand. He'd gotten control over his strength these past twenty-two years; it had been really bad when Micah had been given up for adoption. He was too afraid to keep his precious son and too afraid he'd turn him to dust like everything else seemed to after he touched it. Plus he felt no monster should have something as beautiful as Micah.

Jack bathed himself as he did every morning getting ready for the only job he could do without messing up anything else. Being as strong as he was he was hired under the table by the government who knew his secret but didn't want many other people to. An oil mine had been found in Washington State in the mountain ranges and it was his job was to break down the rocks on the top to level it out for future construction.

Every day was so similar that he couldn't tell the days apart. He lost track of the days; and the gray from the sky made everything seem more like a blur. This was the normal everyday life of Jack Russman until one day an unexpected visitor broke the monotony.

Micah was walking down a residential street looking for the address on the piece of paper he held in his left hand. His heart felt so heavy; he'd been searching for his father for the past seven years and this time he was on the right track. The sun would be setting in two hours, but it was already somewhat dim from the gray sky. His heart skipped a beat when he found the right house. Micah sighed, "Here it goes."

The house was dimly lit. Someone was home; his hands started to shake as he held one up to knock on the door.

No one came to the door at first, so he knocked again. Still again no one came; Micah started to walk away, then the door opened.

For the first time Micah looked into the eyes of his father; he'd never met him before but he knew this was him. But why did he look so sad to see him? Why did he look so tired and upset?

"Hello?" Jack managed confused. He looked into the eyes of the stranger on his door step. He never had visitors; never. "I don't want to buy anything; sorry." Jack started to close the door.

"No, no wait!" Micah said raising his voice some. "Are you Jack Russman?" He asked in a hurry.

"Who wants to know?" Jack said offensively.

"I do… Dad, it's me… Micah"

Jack didn't know what to think. _Dad?_ Did he just say _dad_? Instantly his palms were sweating, he was suddenly nervous and self-conscious. He was speechless and didn't know what to say.

Yep this is him Micah thought. "May I come inside?" He asked hopefully. "We have a lot to talk about." For the first time Micah smiled at his father, and for the first time in twenty-two years Jack smiled back.


End file.
